


Senior Class Unicorn

by fayevsessays



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-30
Updated: 2011-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-24 04:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayevsessays/pseuds/fayevsessays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana manages Brittany’s presidential campaign. And also, unicorns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Senior Class Unicorn

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers for 3x02: I am Unicorn and slight spoilers for 3x03: Asian F

~

“Kurt asked me to be his campaign manager again today.”

Brittany drops the little notion just as Santana is up to her elbows in freaking glitter glue and about to tear her weave out from the amount of pink she’s had to look at in Brittany’s bedroom for the last two hours. “Are you serious?”

There’s a little non-telling shrug that Santana’s eye twitches over. “Did he say why?”

“Just that he realizes he’s a unicorn too and that I was right.”

“Damn right,” Santana grumbles looking at her once perfectly clean and paper cut free hands. “Wait- you didn’t agree to do it again did you? Because I’ve just had a fight with the photographers on that Teen Vogue shoot you did to have copyright to your pictures for these posters .”

Brittany leans her head over the edge of her bed. If she wasn’t wearing her Cheerios top Santana would be getting quite a view. Actually, she still sort of is.

“No. I told him that we were going to work on our own campaign because you told me I’m a unicorn too.” She informs.

She hides the smile she gets hearing Brittany say that. What? It’s nice to know her words matter sometimes. But then a second thought drops. Kurt. “You didn’t tell him I said that did you?”

“No.”

That’s good. “Okay.” It’s not like she doesn’t trust Kurt, or like him because blackmailing Karofsky was not something she did for fun, but she’s just not ready for Kurt or any one to know. Even if it seems like Kurt wouldn’t push her. At least not after the way he reacted to the posters.

Brittany’s clear voice snaps her out of her thoughts. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” She asks suspiciously.

“What you said in the hallway.” Brittany goes on. Edging her towards the conversation they had.

“That this idea is brilliant? Um- Yeah. why do you think Kurt wants to use it now?” Santana scoffs and pulls another picture of Brittany up on her laptop. Getting pink glitter over the keys as she does. Shit.

“Because he really likes rainbows?”

“No, because your idea was awesome and his was boring.” There’d been a moment when she’d almost forgotten the whole get-Kurt-back-to-McKinely deal when Brittany had sulked into fourth period after Kurt had shot down her poster idea that Santana had just wanted to buy a slushie. You know, for old times sake. “And now you’re going to win and become senior class president while he deals with his fourteen year old boyfriend beating him for the lead in the school musical.”

Speaking of, she should get up on that, seeing as there’s not a lot of other options for her to sing these days.

“Blaine’s sixteen.”

“Whatever.”

Rolling over onto her stomach Brittany picks up some of the mock posters Santana has already printed out. They’re still running with the unicorns and magical aspect because anything less wouldn’t be worth it, and actually Santana felt a bit better in school when she was surrounded by things that looked gayer than she did. Even if that happened to be Kurt Hummel on a unicorn.

She catches Brittany looking at her. “What?”

“I meant, did you mean what you said when you called me a unicorn.” Brittany bites her bottom lip. “Or a bicorn or whatever.”

She has a feeling that this isn’t all it seems. Brittany’s soft face searching for affirmation of this and the other things Santana said.

“Of course I did.” She breaks after a second. “You’re amazing. You came up with this whole campaign idea for Kurt in like a day and you made all that stuff for him.”

“You helped.”

“I put up a few posters and talked Hummel down.” Santana shrugs and looks at the pictures of Brittany to stop herself from staring at the real deal too much. Taking it slow after all. “You’re the one who’s actually running for this.”

She hears shuffling but doesn’t turn around. Pretending to be focused on not over using the sharpen tool on Brittany’s face is easier than pretending not to stare at the old and familiar way Brittany’s Cheerios skirt falls over her thighs.

“You know, I think you’re a unicorn too.” Brittany is close enough now to run her fingertips on the back of Santana’s neck. “Just like, one with a broken horn or a limp. A lame unicorn.”

“Great.” Santana deadpans but shudders from the light touch. “I’m a lame unicorn.”

There’s a surprise.

“Lemme guess. There’s no way my horn is gonna be fixed unless I completely embrace all of my magical awesomeness.” Santana swivels her chair around. “Right now I’m not a unicorn. I’m like, a mare with a brown paper bag over my head.”

She’s face to face with Brittany kneeling in front of her. Her knees brush against Brittany’s stomach and with a blush she realizes they’re almost eye level despite Santana sitting on the chair.

“Don’t worry.” Brittany smiles, albeit with a tinge of sadness. “One day people will see just how awesome unicorns really are and you can gallop wherever you want.”

‘But what if I want you.’ Goes unspoken, just like a lot of things between them over the summer. Naturally they’d gravitated towards each other after the disaster of Nationals. Spent the summer rebuilding what had been broken and somewhere along the lines Santana had been hit harder with just how much she felt. How much she constantly feels around her.

It’s almost too much now, hearing her spout off about Santana being a proud unicorn someday and wanting to win class president from Kurt to help make that happen, that she almost kisses her.

Almost being the word because she’s heating up at the thought of it and they’re taking things slowly again. Slowly until Santana is ready and a proud...unicorn.

But Brittany’s vision and her campaign makes the light that she’s been seeing at the end of the tunnel all that brighter.

“Are you serious about all of this?” Santana whispers. “Like running against Kurt for class president.”

Brittany sinks back on her knees and looks at her. “Yeah totally. I mean, it’ll suck when he loses but I can do this. I bet Britney Spears was class president.”

Santana isn’t sure the girl even finished out high school.

“But you want to do this. You want this.” Santana repeats. Echoes of ‘do you want me?’ lingering in the back of her throat.

Brittany pulls the unicorn headband she went to see Kurt with out from beside the pile of finished posters Santana has already made. The majority are of Brittany in her Cheerios uniform as that’s what Teen Vogue had been interested in last year, despite her being off the squad, the others are pictures Santana has taken over the last year. Brittany in various hats, on Fondue for Two, at prom, today...

“I want this.”

That’s all she needs to hear before she pulls out her cellphone.

“What are you doing?” Brittany asks, confused at the sudden change of events.

Santana listens to it dialing. “You want to win? Then we’re going to need more than just the two of us to pull it off against Hummel’s scary planning.”

The dialing continues. Trust her.

Santana carries on. “Quinn may have decided to join the fellowship of the skanks and follow Tina into the cult of Wednesday Addams but she still generates buzz at this school.”

It’s bordering on stalkerish that no matter how high or low Quinn Fabray seems to fall in the social hierarchy people still want up on her business. Jewfro blogs about her daily, almost to the extent of Rachel these days, and while Santana thinks the poll about whether or not Quinn is going to snap and kill someone is a little distasteful, the harsh reality is that it seems almost logical at this point.

Brittany looks hesitant. “I don’t know. I saw her today with Puck. She looked like a sad troll doll.”

“We’ve been on her for weeks about this attitude.” Santana comments.

There’s a little mumbling. “I don’t know, I thought after Nationals we’d all just fit together again.”

Like a puzzle. Santana had hoped for that too. At first it had seemed almost possible. Quinn hung out with them during the last few weeks of junior year. Studying with them for exams while they learned how to be around each other again without constantly pushing each other into lockers. Well, not Brittany.

And then Quinn and her mom went to visit her mom’s family in Indiana for a month in the summer. She hadn’t even called Santana to say she was back when she and Brittany had found her hanging off the arm of some deadbeat skater at the back of Breadstix with badly dyed hair and a nose piercing.

Maybe they hadn’t been such good friends to each other for a while but seeing Quinn’s eyes glaze over, completely disregarding them both as they walked into the parking lot, stung like a bitch.

“We’ll always fit Britt.” Santana murmurs. “Even if some of the pieces are a little stubborn and need their ass kicked into gear.”

“I guess we could talk to Quinn as well.” Brittany smirks. Oh that was clever.

Quinn doesn’t pick up her phone and after a few choice words that has Brittany raising her eyebrows she settles for texting a proposal for the girl to get back to her on. Which she will because there’s no amount of pink hair dye or skank smell that can truly break the unholy trinity.

“So what do we need Quinn for?” Brittany asks. She’s further away from her now. Sorting through the piles of posters with her smiling face on them and reading the writing Santana’s put on them. They haven’t really gotten into what Brittany is planning to run her campaign on, other than a zero tolerance for bullying and acceptance, but she’s been able to list Brittany’s accomplishments on the posters for a start.

Cheerios. Glee. Fondue for Two. The Muckraker. Teen Vogue. Brainiacs. Even without school stuff, it looks pretty impressive.

“Quinn’s a leader. Always has been and always will.” Santana starts. “But she’s only a leader because we picked her.”

Brittany’s head shoots up.

She remembers. “Quinn wanted to be head cheerio. A sophomore head cheerio.” Santana recalls with a little pride. “Although I hate to bring up the fact we got laughed out of the changing rooms when Quinn decided to drop that little bomb on the squad, she knew what she wanted and knew how to get it.”

Quinn is a catalyst. She makes things happen. She makes people do things. Without even trying people gravitate towards her. Losing a bit of her pride makes it easier to accept that.

“If we get Quinn on board for this campaign we’ve got the attention of the entire school. Especially Sue.” And Sue is important.

“So,” Brittany slowly figures it out. “If we get Quinn-”

“We get a following.”

“What makes you think Quinn will even do it?” Brittany counters. “She’s pretending not to like us at the moment.”

Small hurdles really. “Um, because without us she wouldn’t have made head cheerio? She owes us Britt. And that message I sent is going to remind her”

A thoughtful expression passes over Brittany’s face and Santana knows where she is. “Sometimes I feel bad that we dropped Laney though. She was on crutches for weeks.”

“It was the only way Sue was ever going to make Quinn captain.”

What’s a few broken bones between friends?

“Who else?” Santana asks. She’s pulling up facebook and Jewfro’s blog site before finishing. They need a bigger backing considering she knows a lot of the Glee club will be swayed to vote for Kurt.

“The Cheerios.” Brittany pulls up another chair beside her. “I don’t want to make Glee club pick.”

“What’s a president without an army?” Santana muses. “I think we’re going to need Coach as well.”

Dread swirls in her stomach. She still hasn’t fully forgiven Coach Sylvester for the position she put her in over the Purple Pianos, but it’s less of a rage than what she holds towards Mr Schuester. At least she was valued somewhere.

“I think Becky would vote for me if I took a no toast stance.” Brittany rocks on her chair and Santana has to freeze for a second to ignore the noise. “And if I made out with-”

Santana doesn’t even have to balk at the idea of Brittany kissing other people; people that probably don’t include her, before she’s cutting herself off.

“-or we could make super cool badges.”

She lets out a sigh of relief. “Whatever you want Britt.”

“Hey.”

A simple greeting that always has her turning and softening away her worries like they mean nothing. Just because of who says it.

Brittany leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees, with a sweet smile. If she wasn’t sitting down already her legs would be goners. “What would make you wanna vote for me?”

Santana rolls her eyes. “I’m your best friend, it’s not like I’m going to vote for anyone else.” That doesn’t seem like a good enough reason, but she can’t really say ‘because I love you’. “I mean if you wanted me to bring back the Bully Whips, that’d be cool and-oh...”

Brittany’s elbows are replaces with her hands and she’s still leaning, with a gleam and a bigger smile. That’s a familiar look.”

“-and you’ve got your flirt face on.”

“You’re really hot when you’re scheming.” Brittany states without a second thought. “C’mere.”

She’s standing up for a second before Brittany tugs her a little. Somehow her knee rests on the exposed part of the chair between Brittany’s legs and she already knows how this is going to end.

They do this thing now where they hug in the awkward pauses that Santana used to remember they’d make out in. She’s not complaining because Brittany’s hugs are nothing short of amazing and who doesn’t like hugs? Badass or not.

Except the lack of making out has shortened the reaction time her body has to Brittany being in close proximity. So hugging leads to feelings which leads to Santana being hyperaware of arms and legs and abs and oh...boobs.

“You’re my favourite unicorn.” Brittany holds her tighter. “Don’t tell Kurt.”

It’d be a lie to say she wasn’t wishing that this was a different gesture and a different set of words. But at this pace, she’ll take what she can get.

 

~

 _“What’s up McKinley, this is Jacob Ben Israel on the spot for all the Senior Class President election news you need to know. Front Runner Kurt Hummel is running virtually unopposed with his embrace the gay strategy but we still have a week before nominations close so anything goes!”_

~

“I want to be pro-glee and dance.” Is Brittany’s opener the next day.

“That’s going to hurt the Sue-llience.” Santana points out. “You know she wants to cut glee club.”

“Yeah I know but the Cheerios dance and Sue doesn’t want to cut us.” Brittany looks down at her feet while she walks, Santana has to grab her arm to stop her walking into passing people. “At least not that I know of.”

“Cheering is totally a sport. Sue wants the arts cut.” They slide up to their lockers and start to turn their combinations.

“But we love glee.” Brittany’s clicks open first. “Even though it sucks more than you’re not there and I have to be like, mean for you and Quinn.”

Santana stops herself from saying Brittany doesn’t have to do that because just hearing the word glee fills her with an overwhelming depression she can’t shake. “How are we going to do this?”

It’s a question she spent all night thinking about to -stop- herself from thinking about Brittany’s hugs.

“We’re going to talk to Tina.” Brittany tells her. “And then we’re going to find Quinn and Mike.”

Santana shuts her locker door with a slam. “I get Quinn but what’s with the Asian Fusion?”

Glancing in Brittany’s locker Santana can’t find unspoken reasons. Just bags filled with badges and spare rolled up posters that Brittany must have brought with her to school. The rest are with the Cheerios being obediently put up all around the school under the watchful eye of Becky Jackson.

“The homecoming assembly duh.”

“I’m not following.” She admits.

“Good thing I am.” Brittany links their arms together. “Wait, who are we following? Is this a twitter thing?”

Santana smiles quietly to herself. “The homecoming assembly Britt.”

Back on track Brittany steers them towards their first class; Geography. Out of habit and out of a reaction to their last lesson, where Brittany pretended not to notice how hard everyone was laughing at her answers by drawing shapes onto the table, Santana pulls them closer together. They sift through the crowd with ease, the uniform parting what their elbows don’t catch.

“Coach keeps complaining about how the Glee club are planning to do a welcome back to senior year song for the assembly.” Brittany informs her. It’s the first she’s heard of course.

“Great. Lemme guess. Berry and Finnousaurous Rex are going to mope about the stage singing High School Musical while they ignore the fact everyone knows they lost us Nationals.” She scoffs until Brittany gives her the ‘you-should-be-over-this-by-now’ look. “Coach is pissed.”

“So I had a thought.” They walk through the door to their class and their conversation’s volume drops. “What if I ask for like a solo for the assembly? That way Coach sees less Glee club and more people see me?”

Santana leads them to their shared desk. Sitting down she lets Brittany’s idea sink in. “Britt.”

It’s good, but there’s a way it could be even better.

“I have an idea.” Santana turns to Brittany. “Get the twins at lunch and I’ll corner the last misfit toy.”

Brittany grins.

“We’ve got a presidential campaign to start.”

~

Santana pitches the idea perfectly to Sue. No Glee at the assembly in exchange for the spotlight on the Cheerios for once. A chance to make up for her disappointing failure at Regionals last year as well as a chance to further stifle the arts programs at McKinley.

But in the process also advertising it by gaurenteeing Brittany’s staged performance.

She can’t wait until Sue actually realizes. Actually, considering Cheerios is all she has right now, she probably can.

Quinn reluctantly comes aboard with their team in exchange for a future favour of her choice.

“Wanky.”

“Shut up.”

When she turns up a day later with all of the pink bleached out of her hair and back into her church dresses and cardigans Santana knows that this will eventually be good for her. Despite the change her followers don’t flee. Quinn’s hold over the skanks apparently transcends her personal hygiene habits and she gets them to beat Jacob Ben Israel into gathering the AV club and their cameras into the gym on the assembly day.

Sure she could have asked Artie.

But, no.

Tina and Mike fall into line without much questioning. Brittany explains what she wants and over three days Mike and Tina set about helping her to choreograph and teach twenty or more Cheerios. Santana leaves out the part where she forgets to mention that Glee won’t be performing this year. She doesn’t want to effect morale.

Then again Tina effects Santana’s morale slash patience every time she spots the girl smiling between Santana and Brittany like they’re the most precious of things.

It’s a win-lose deal.

Except it’s mostly a win.

Everything falls into place and New Directions are told they’re not performing about ten minutes before they’re set to go on stage, mostly for Sue’s pleasure at seeing their distraught faces while Santana stiffly glares in their direction.

The lights go out. The cameras turn on. And the 500+ students in the gym witness Brittany Pierce announce her Senior Class President running team before Cheerios storm the floor to accompany her in the most breathtaking step-for-step match up to Beyonce’s ‘Run the World’.

The chips fall and Santana, Quinn and the red, white army of Cheerios flank their candidate in the last show stopping move. A solid breakout of strength and support.

The cameras capture everything; Brittany, center of the room with one hand up in the air, knee high socks and a football shirt on. They capture everything except the look on Santana’s face that hurt for hours afterwards.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” Quinn nudges her side.

“Shut up.”

The lights turn on and Kurt Hummel is nowhere to be seen.

~

 _’Brittany S Pierce - Run the World - McKinley riot! ‘  
Youtube views: 4,649_

~

She’s surprised it took Blaine this long to approach her. “Is Brittany really serious about this campaign?”

It’s no secret that after Brittany’s parting he turned to his boyfriend to help him with his campaign along with Mercedes, though Wheezy is more preoccupied with her own things than helping to plan Kurt’s movement. Jacob Ben Israel has taken to calling Blaine Kurt’s first lady.

Which would make Santana, Brittany’s first lady.

“Are you really serious with that bow tie?” Santana turns away from the gaudy pink accessory. “Because I’m pretty sure you didn’t dress this flaming when you were at Dalton.”

She is totally the Michelle Obama in this operation.

“We had uniforms.” He shakes his head.

“Exactly.”

“Santana. Please.” Blaine struggles to keep up with her pace. She’s too busy for this, really, between planning for Brittany’s debate with Kurt and still pulling her weight for the Cheerios and classes she doesn’t have time to listen to hobbit number two rattle on about how unfair Brittany is being using the unicorns as well.

“-Kurt just thought that it’s kind of tacky and hard to distinguish between the posters.”

Oh, so he’s actually saying that.

“And I think, in all fairness, that maybe you should change your design.”

Hold up.

“Excuse me.” Santana stops the first Cheerio she sees in her tracks. “Can you hold this for a second?”

The girl takes her clipboard and bag from her and stands, back straight, next to her. Oh how she loves being at the top again. Captain has always had a nice ring to it. Even when shared.

“Let me tell you how this is gon’ be okay?” The Cheerio doesn’t bat an eye at Santana’s sudden turning on Blaine. “From where I stand I’m sure of two things. One, Brittany came up with this unicorn idea and if we’re going to get into fairness-”

Blaine swallows as Santana takes a step forward. “Then Kurt should take his posters down because the last time I checked he wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of his face plastered on top or beneath a unicorn.”

Just saying.

“Numero two, I’m pretty sure the only reason you’re here and not still shuffling from side to side at Dalton is because this is where Kurt is.” Condescendingly Santana tilts her head. “Which means you’re a follower. And I’m pretty sure Kurt didn’t put you up to this, so I’m going to just skip forward and guess that you’re here to try to get Brittany to change her campaign, because you want to soften the blow for Kurt when he finds out Artie just cast you as Tony in West Side Story.”

That was one piece of information she was glad to have cornered Artie about. Although they still have to work on the whole talking to each other part.

The Cheerio by her side looks sufficiently impressed as she hands Santana her stuff back. Blaine ducks his head at her words and Santana is so glad she’s not going to be part of the glee club for that blow up. But then again, it might be fun to watch.

“I’ll see you at the debate Blair.”

She turns on her heel before Blaine has the chance to correct her, laughing to herself silently at how people assume Kurt’s the one waiting to be swept off his feet.

~

 

 _“FONDUE FOR TWO, FONDUE FOR TWO, THAT’S SOME HOT DISH! FONDUE FOR TWO!”_

Santana files her nails to Brittany’s right on the couch they’re sharing. They’ve had to improvise with space because Brittany isn’t hosting and Artie’s chair takes up more space than they thought. While she’s not trying to think of the last time Artie was in Brittany’s room she knew it was going to be hard to ignore when he offered to host the Presidential debate on Fondue for Two.

Baby steps, she thinks.

Kurt sits on the edge of Brittany’s bed, trying not to look horrified at the notches he can see, while Blaine looks thrilled to be included in this. Oh god, Santana realizes, they’re wearing complimentary colours. And one of them is periwinkle blue.

“This is awesome.” Brittany leans over and whispers. Santana smiles and puts the nail file down as Artie signals they’re about to record.

Unlike the boys, Santana thought the best thing they could do was present themselves together. So they’re both wearing their Cheerios uniform and Santana has spent the last to days with Quinn, who is manning the camera with Lauren, prepping Brittany for the questions Artie is going to ask.

Everything seems to be more in their favour as well because Santana knows for a fact that at least four out of the seven people present will be voting for Brittany.

Lauren counts down on her fingers from five and like clockwork both her and Brittany sit up straighter. This is where she and Brittany have the small advantage. Presentation on TV. Sue’s prepped them well for interviews for the Cheerios and with the amount of air time Brittany has put in to making Fondue for Two, it’s no wonder Kurt copies their posture, nudging Blaine to follow him.

“Hi! I’m Artie Abrams and today I’m taking over the hosting duties on Fondue for Two in order to bring you William McKinley High School’s first, slightly live, presidential debate!”

Santana sighs and mentally decides Artie was a much better choice than Rachel for this.

“Here are your candidates for President!” Artie gestures and Quinn swings the camera to pan over Brittany and Kurt. “Brittany S. Pierce and Kurt Hummel, along with their campaign managers. Santana Lopez and Blaine Anderson.”

Brittany beams at the camera comfortably while Santana gives a smaller smile. She hasn’t forgotten the time she bailed on this show.

“Okay we only have a limited time for this so we’ll get started.” Artie reads from the notes both Santana and Kurt had provided for him. “I’ll start with Kurt.”

He looks the part of the calm candidate. Sitting still and waiting. For his part, Blaine keeps to one side.

“You’re running on a front for better student-teacher relationships in terms of academics and general student welfare, as well as pulling for the organisation of PFLAG? Can you tell us a little more about this?”

Santana grits her teeth as he answers for a few reasons. One in relief that Artie didn’t direct the question to Kurt’s choice of campaign posters and the other because Kurt is definitely going to attract the mock-UN and science clubs.

It’s kind of a blessing that Brittany was on the Brainiacs for this part.

“Of course Mr Abrams.” Kurt smiles. “I feel that McKinley is full of students who aren’t able to realize their full potential with the current standards of classes. And this isn’t due to poor teaching, no, but the lack of communication between students and teachers.”

Suddenly, Santana smiles.

Kurt carries on. “I’m dedicated to pushing this one through because I’ve personally experienced how dangerous a lack of communication can be in some situations and I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.”

Artie nods a long while Santana takes the opportunity to whisper advice to Brittany with the camera on Kurt.

“PFLAG is an organisation that I’d also like to see brought into McKinley. It stands for parents, friends of lesbians and gays. It’s an LGBTQ...”

Santana stops listening at this point. Too focused on the way Brittany raises her hand to respond to the end of Kurt’s statement. He fumbles seeing her do this and rushes the rest of his sentence.

Artie addresses her. “Brittany you have a response for Kurt?”

“Yeah.” Brittany waves down the line at Kurt. “Hi Kurt, you look super nice today.”

“Thank you Brittany.”

“I was just wondering if Kurt is being too harsh on like teachers? Because I know a lot of them want to help and stuff but it’s hard if the people they want to help don’t want to be helped?” Brittany phrases Santana’s comments perfectly. “And I also wanted to say that maybe if he’d communicated better with people last year he wouldn’t have transferred to another school and lost to the New Directions.”

Santana is cheering inside at Brittany’s little addition.

Blaine’s actually looks like he wants to interject but Kurt freezes so fast at the mention of his transfer that he stops. Mentioning Dalton is a huge blow. Students have already expressed concern with having a senior class president that actually left the school when the going got tough.

Regardless of whether that tough was a death threat. She’s seen the student body, they’re pretty fickle about it all.

“Do you have a response Kurt?”

No he doesn’t. He can’t. Not without implicating Mr Schuester for not stepping in sooner. Or Sue for not acting more harshly. Or without outing David.

“Improvements can be made. My time at Dalton has exposed me to how much work McKinley needs.” He settles for. “I feel like I can bring that to this school.”

“Thank you Kurt.” Artie nods. “Brittany.”

“Hi Artie.”

Artie’s smile doesn’t deter Santana’s professionalism. “You’re campaign slogan says that you want people to ‘believe in their own magic’. Can you give a little insight into what this means in terms of policies you’d want to push forward?”

“Totally.” Quinn pushes the camera towards Brittany again. Santana is sure she’s in the shot as well so she keeps her face bright and supportive. “School could be so awesome for everyone if they just accepted people better.”

Santana subtly nudges her.

“The magic aspect means like what makes you special.” Brittany continues. “Like what you’re good at or who you are.”

“Is that what the unicorn represents?” Blaine pipes up. For some reason Santana can tell he’s attempting to downplay Brittany’s choice but he ends up sounding appreciative.

“Yeah. Everyone has the potential to be unicorns.” Brittany nods. “Thanks Blaine.”

Score.

“If more people would accept the fact that they are who they are and that’s what makes them amazing people, then we’d have a better school environment and that means a better school.” She’s going off on her own now. And it’s not going terribly wrong either. “I guess that also means people would do better in school and be more challenged too, right Kurt?”

Stiffly Kurt has to agree.

Score two.

Artie looks pleased for her. “Next we move on to something you both have listed. The subject of bullying. Kurt?”

“As someone who’s had personal experience with this.” He says, all the while pointing out that people should assume Brittany hasn’t. “I’ve chosen to focus on trying to get the school to establish a zero tolerance approach to bullying.”

“This includes but doesn’t stop at, having more teachers out in the halls, a better relationship between students and teachers such as Miss Pillsbury, and a one strike policy.”

“What would that entail?” Artie asks.

“One incident against one person results in a detention. If it persists then there’s a meeting called to discuss the situation and Principal Figgins investigates whether or not the bully should be permanently suspended.”

Santana sniffs. “I feel that could be exploited.”

Artie quickly turns to her. “Santana, can you explain what Brittany’s approach is in comparison to Kurt’s suggestions?”

“I realize that suspension in this school is something all too easily handed out.” She directs to Kurt. “But nothing was solved in your case from suspension.”

She turns back to the camera. “If elected Brittany would support an anti-bullying campaign sponsored by Coach Beiste and the Bully Whips that aims to stop bullying before it begins. Stop the bullies, stop the bullying.”

Kurt and Artie look slightly surprised at the revelation that the Bully Whips are reforming. Quinn just looks proud.

“Two excellent approaches indeed.” Artie finally comments. Santana smirks. Just wait until he hears about the proposals to raise the prices of slushies in the cafeteria.

Brittany smiles at her happily. They’ve totally got this one.

 

~

 _“This is Jacob Ben Israel on the Presidential trail! Today we’re interviewing you! The student body! About who you’re going to be voting for and why!”_

~

No camera angle can disguise Artie’s slight disgust at being so close to Jacob as the custom microphone is shoved under his nose.

“Who are you voting for and why?”

“Um, Brittany.” Artie’s eyes flicker back and forth from the mic to the camera. “Is that from the AV club?”

Jacob motions for the camera crew to step back so Artie can’t see the AV stickers on the equipment. “Is it true that you’re secretly devastated Brittany didn’t come to you to for help in organising her campaign but eloped to Santana Lopez instead?”

“Eloped isn’t the right word.”

“And that you’re only voting for her because the two of you dated.”

“Well-” Artie grips the wheels of his chair uncomfortably. “We’re friends and I care about her.”

“So you’re saying you’re voting for Brittany because you still have feelings for her?”

“No that’s not what I said.”

“Are you not voting for Kurt because he didn’t put out then?”

The camera zooms in to capture the split second shock on Artie’s face before he’s backing his chair away. “I’m really not comfortable with this.”

~

“I’m behind my man Kurt all the way.” Mercedes Jones pauses briefly, hand in hand with her boyfriend Shane, to address the camera. “Well, my second man.”

Jacob flicks through his planned questions. “Can you dispel any rumors that Kurt Hummel is taking a anti-tots stance if he wins class president?”

“Completely untrue.”

“What about his planned changes to the arts at this school, specifically the upcoming musical starring his boyfriend Blaine?”

Irritated at Jacob’s consistent questions interrupting her time with Shane Mercedes replies snappishly: “Look, I’m down for Kurt’s plans and stances, and he knows that.”

“Is it true that he’s promised you the lead, Maria, if he wins?”

Mercedes clams up and stops looking at the camera. “No comment.”

~

A shot of one of Brittany’s support badges is shown as a close up. As it slowly backs away Jacob starts his questioning.

“State your name for the camera.”

Tina looks confused. “Um, Tina Cohen-Chang?”

Mike smiles beside her. “Mike Chang.”

“You were both credited as choreographing Brittany’s self-proclaimed Beyonce sex riot at the homecoming assembly last Friday. Has that caused tensions between you and your relationship with Kurt Hummel?”

“Not really,” Tina shrugs. “It’s not personal I guess. Brittany just wanted us to help her out.”

“Are you planning on voting for her?”

Calmly Mike responds. “Are you allowed to ask us this?”

Jacob shrugs.

“They’re both our friends and we’d be happy if either of them won.” Tina fiddles with the Brittany badge on her chest in an obvious show of support. “I’ll probably make a decision closer to the day.”

~

Shelby and Will raise their eyebrows at Jacob, catching them refilling their coffee cups in the teacher’s lounge. “We’re teachers, we can’t vote.”

~

David Karofsky is cornered as he comes out of the ballot room. He looks stunned to see a camera shoved in his face and quickly steels himself.

“You’re not allowed to be around here.” He gestures to the voting room.

“Karofsky! Can you tell us who you voted for?”

“None of your business Jewfro.”

“Can you confirm or deny that Santana Lopez has swayed your vote in order to further Brittany Pierce’s campaign?”

Dave looks more and more uncomfortable as Jacob continues to follow him down the hall. “I’m not telling you anything, now beat it!”

His threat lacks any heart but in turning the camera catches the hint of a ‘Vote Hummel’ pin attached to the inside of his letterman jacket.

No further questions needed.

~

 

“Most of my time has been dedicated to learning all of my lines and numerous musical and dance numbers for our upcoming performances of West Side Story.” Rachel beams over her left side as she struggles to close her locker. “I have all of the notes and backing tracks available if anyone wishes to try out for the chorus. I’m free after school and during lunch.”

She manages to close it with a small click that doesn’t sounds as if it will hold. “While the main role of Maria has not yet been cast I am confident that my chemistry with Blaine will wow audiences and secure favourable reviews for my NYADA portfolio while strengthening my relationship with Kurt.”

The crew follows her down the hall as she weaves in and out of the crowd. “And as for glee I’m certain that this year will be our year to take Nationals, no doubt with me taking some solos for my senior year, leading the senior members of the club to go out with a fantastic bang.”

Jacob nods with Rachel’s enthusiasm. She eventually becomes disturbed out by his intense staring and coughs. “As for who I’m voting for...”

~

Santana glares at the camera. The side of her right eye sparkles with what suspiciously looks like a spot of glitter in the shape of lips. “Are you seriously asking me this question?”

~

Shaking, the camera sloppily focuses on Sue Sylvester, leaning back in the comfort of her office chair. “Of course I’m funding the majority of the Pierce-Lopez campaign. Can you imagine it?”

She breathes in deeply. “A world run by me and a school run by someone also run by me.”

Becky nods from her side. “Terrifying.”

“Thank you Becky.” Sue grimaces in a way that’s probably meant to be some form of twisted smile. “Now get out of my office.”

~

“I think Brittany’s great.” Blaine smiles and pulls on the front of his polo shirt. “When Kurt told me she dropped out to run herself I thought, well, good for her. I’m all for a bit of healthy competition.”

His smile seems to drop a little. “I mean I kind of miss it, what with being in the Warblers when I was kind of the star and all.”

“But it’s nice for them to both be running but still be friends.” Blaine goes back to beaming and the camera has to zoom out a little. “What? No, Santana didn’t ask me to say that.”

He pauses.

“Neither did Kurt.”

~

“Are you two dating again?”

Quinn sets on her darkest glare, a little less effective now that she’s shucked aside her skank wear and pink hair. “You just saw me walk out of the girl’s bathroom, we’re not even standing together.”

Finn looks blankly at the camera from his place at the side of the entrance to the bathroom. “This is the only part of the hall I can stand in without hitting my head on the ceiling.” He stops. “And this is my locker.”

Quinn rolls her eyes in a way that’s all too clear she’s wondering what she ever saw in him. “Vote Brittany.”

 

~

“Hummel’s my boy.” Puck inhales loudly, probably more than he needs to, as he lifts weights in the gym. “And I totally have his back now that my juvie record is behind me and I can beat people up again.”

Thoughtfully he stops. “People who deserve it, not like for fun.” That seems like a better response to him.

“And if girls didn’t have this power over me and I was down with dudes, I would totally vote for him.” He shrugs and puts the weight down. It’s about the size of Jacob’s head. “But Brittany was wearing a really short skirt at that pep assembly and if voting for her means I’ve got a better shot at getting it on with her again or a chance I’ll get to see her and Santana? Then there’s my vote.”

The mumbled phrase doesn’t register on the audio but Puck’s face falls. “Wait, she isn’t going to see this, is she?”  


~

The Skanks sneer at Jacob from their casual places underneath the bleachers. There are thrift couches everywhere for some reason. “Voting means participating in society.”

The Mac pops her gum loudly. “But whatever, the girl’s hot.”

~

“I’m not really sure why you called me.” Sam Evans looks confused on the other end of a skype call. “I don’t even go to McKinley anymore.”

When there isn’t a following question Sam shuffles awkwardly on the other line before rubbing his hand over his face. “But if I was there then I’d vote for Kurt?”

Silence.

“Can I get back to class now?”

~

There’s a black ten second clip of someone shrieking loudly for everyone to vote ‘Sugar Motta’.

~

She knows killing Jacob would be unproductive until after the election results seen as it’s free press and what she’s getting from most of the videos is that more people are voting for Brittany.

Still Santana ends up checking the twitter points every half hour to check on Brittany’s chances. Kurt keeps edging up and down and Jacob keeps updating his blog with ‘Presidential fashions’ and streaming the interview videos he’s taken because he can’t get any new quotes from either of the candidates until tomorrow.

It’s satisfying to also note that in the poll asking people to compare potential ‘First Lady slash Vice-presidents’ in terms of fashion she’s beating Blaine Bowtie Warbler by 44 percent.

Soon after ‘Fierce Prez Pierce’ starts trending on the school twitter and Santana decides she deserves a break. Or a back massage.

~

“How are we doing?” Brittany calls from inside her room. Santana is checking in with Becky out in the hall via text while trying to get the latest twitter updates from Quinn. The reception is better out in the hall and when they’re just hours away from the announcement.

“Quinn’s updating it now.” Santana calls back. She doesn’t lower her voice because her dad is working the night shift again. No one is going to ask her to quieten down anyway.

“We’re up a point again!”

Brittany whoops from inside. When she smiles this time, it feels good. Just thinking that this all started two weeks ago because Santana actually said something right, for once, and Brittany felt good enough to step out on her own. It’s satisfying to know as well that all of the kids that usually laugh at what Brittany says in class are probably voting for her as well.

Pushing off from the wall she finishes her message to Becky. She’s on temporary full duties until after the official announcement slash Cheerio organised celebration. Brittany has no idea about the confetti cannons they’ve borrowed from Coach Sylvester. Her face when they win, and she will win, is going to be priceless.

Feeling confident she can leave her metaphorical desk, Santana makes her way into her bedroom to update Brittany for the last time.

“I think now that we’ve really got the AV club, we’ll have major pull in the Jazz band which I guess I’ll thank Wheels for-” It’s not the thought of thanking wheels that makes her choke, but Brittany modelling part of her outfit for tomorrow.

Specifically just the little red blazer that isn’t covering her ass from Santana’s view. It’s just there. In front of her. Slightly swaying while Brittany looks at herself in the mirror. In really tight boy shorts that she wasn’t aware Brittany owned.

Oh god. She’s wearing her underwear. Hers. Meaning she was naked before. Naked. In her room. Without her. Damn.

“-that.” She half squeaks.

“Is this what the President actually feels like?” Brittany pulls on the lapels of the jacket, it barely moves and doesn’t help Santana’s quest to not stare. If anything it makes her want to reach out and snap the elastic on the shorts. Letting it go and making the soft skin there turn pink.

“Um,”

Brittany turns. She only has one button on the jacket done. The front part of her bra splits her exposed chest and for the first time Santana fully understands the ‘more is less’ saying. “Like do you think he gets tired of people talking about what he has to do all the time and just wants to-”

“To what?” She’s pretty sure this sentence isn’t going to end in ‘wants to fuck Michelle Obama.’

“To stop you talking about how the voting will go tomorrow.”

“Brittany we need to-”

“We don’t need to do anything.” Brittany unlocks her bracelet and places it carefully on her desk. She looks more naked now than she did before. Santana wants to feel the space the metal used to occupy. “You don’t need to do anything other than put that stupid clipboard down and come over here.”

It’s harder than she thought. The campaign has been such a distraction. Something so perfect to dive into, that involves Brittany, just in a safe way.

And that’s just been torn out from under her.

“I thought we were taking things slow.” Santana chooses her words carefully.

Brittany backs up against Santana’s bed. The black duvet contrasting amazingly against her skin. Santana’s knees falter.

“We are.” Brittany shuffles her butt back on the bed and unhooks her bra from the front. Oh, that’s new. “We’ve been taking it slowly all summer. Slow doesn’t mean that we’d never arrive here.”

Actually Santana thought they’d been going so slow they’d started to move backwards.

“Brittany.”

She’s not sure if she’s just saying her name because she wants her to stop or just because it’s been so long since she’s shuddered her name out like this and not felt guilty.

“I’m not asking you to do something you’re uncomfortable with.”

“I’m not uncomfortable with this.” Santana blurts out as Brittany drops her bra at the side of the bed on the floor.

Coyly Brittany smirks, touching the skin on her collar teasingly. “I remember.”

“I’m, god. Brittany.” Don’t look, don’t look, she chants to herself. “You’re about to be named Senior Class President and that’s when things will really change and get better and I want to-”

If only this moment were happening when everything was fine between them, or even in the future when she won’t feel so guilty about not giving herself over to Brittany and embracing her completely.

And she’s really trying to keep feeling guilty about wanting to see Brittany walk around her room in her underwear but it’s really hard to.

“Santana I’m not asking you to come out right now.” Brittany pushes forward again. “I’d never ask you to do something you weren’t okay with. Like that time I wanted to have sex on a swing and you were like-”

“-there’s kids around. I know.”

Bashfully Brittany swings her head around. “The whole point of this wasn’t to win.”

“It wasn’t? Wait, this isn’t another ‘glee club family’ speeches is it?”

“Would it matter if it was?”

Quickly she shakes her head. Damn, she’s still staring where she shouldn’t be. “No.”

“The point wasn’t to win but to make this school a safer place to be a unicorn.” Brittany plays with the waistband of her underwear but even the suggestive move doesn’t wipe the serious expression off her face.

“I thought we established I wasn’t-”

“Not yet. You will be soon.” Brittany reaches for her and despite the fact she’s not wearing a bra and the charged air around them, Santana wraps her arms around Brittany’s waist. A hand rubs against her forehead. “You’re a lame unicorn for now. But you’re not gonna be one forever. And I just wanted to do what you did for Kurt last year.”

At her silence she carries on touching the top of Santana’s ponytail.

“To make the school a safer place for you to embrace everything about you.” Brittany kisses her forehead. Her lips against her skin, solid and present, feel like they leave a physical mark. “And if that helps you come out and you feel good, then we’ll be together in front of everyone.”

“What about now?”

“Santana.” Brittany looks down on her with shimmering eyes. “We’re together here. Now.”

“Is that okay?” Santana asks. “Is that okay for now?”

Brittany presses her lips to Santana’s forehead. Probably right where she imagines Santana’s hidden unicorn horn or something and a warmth spreads through her. More than just arousal.

“It’s always been okay.”

She feels childish and happy with a buzzing emotion trying to stay contained inside her chest. So much that she can’t even bring their lips together.

Luckily Brittany has that covered.

Cupping cheeks and smiling. The tips of their noses touch before anything else and Santana finds herself needing that tap before she’s swelling with everything that follows Brittany kissing her.

And with that her restraint seems to evaporate into the hot air around them. Forcing her to slide her hands up the back of Brittany’s shoulders and down to brush the side of her breasts. Skimming there but no further because she knows going further right now is not on the agenda.

At least not for her. Brittany, who’s hands are dropping down to grab her ass, doesn’t seem to have that problem.

“Brittany.” Reluctantly she breaks the kiss. There’s a smacking noise which Santana groans again at and forgets what she wants to say in favour of kissing her again.

“Bed.” Brittany grins into Santana’s searching kiss.

Amazingly they make it there without tripping over each other. It’s when Brittany is pushing her legs apart and actually on top of her, kissing her and pressing against her so much that she knows Brittany can feel how turned on she is.

Which makes it all the more difficult to stop parting her legs and instead stop Brittany from pushing her hand underneath the band of her underwear.

“Britt Britt.” Resorting to her nickname kills a little of the overwhelming mood and makes her feel safer. “Maybe we should-”

She hates putting space between them but Santana sits up forcing Brittany to support herself on her hands again.

“Slow down?”

“Just a little.” She gives a short laugh. Without a beat Brittany sits back on her knees, still smiling a little too sweetly for a girl who knows that Santana hasn’t had sex in over six months. In fact she’s definitely smirking at that fact because she wiggles her hips to the side to bump Santana’s legs open playfully.

“That’s cool.” She’s still so close that Santana can see little goosebumps popping along Brittany’s stomach. “We can still make out though? With me in these-”

This time Santana does snap the waist band. “Mine.”

“Your teeny tiny shorts.”

“I can be down with this.”

“Some sweet lady kisses, me in your teeny tiny shorts and-” Brittany hums appreciatively as she brings Santana’s hand away from the waistline of the shorts towards her chest. “-I’m sure taking it slow can speed up to this too.”

“I’m sure.” Santana’s breath hitches as her finger catches against Brittany’s nipple. “Sure.”

Brittany takes her own hand away and hovers over her more. Letting Santana take some of her weight. Biting her lip as Santana maps her hands over her again.

On top of the covers, where they’ve been in this exact same position hundreds of times before, Santana takes it slow. Appreciating Brittany letting her go at her own pace. Letting her touch and kiss and experience her arousal building.

“And I’m sure that after tomorrow-” Brittany arches into her hand. “Things will speed up.”

With what she feels as Brittany grinds against her, she’s pretty sure things are going to kick into high gear right around the time Brittany wins this thing, and god she’s content to ride it out.

 

~

There’s a last chance speech before Figgins takes the stage. Kurt in his suit and tie charms the room and even Santana has a moment of pride at how well he’s taken everything, not just in the last few weeks but months.

Brittany hugs him before he sits down and it’s almost not a competition to her. Just something else she gets to do alongside her friends.

Santana blocks out everything else. To the rest of the world she’s the image of support. Sitting on the sidelines and nodding in approval with everything Brittany says. Except she’s just staring at the way the light hits Brittany. How it threads through the waves in her hair and how her smile just-

And then there’s a scream that starts a wave of cheering. Figgins has a piece of paper in his hands and the confetti guns are going off and Santana’s being pulled up by Blaine just in time for her to catch Brittany jumping up and wrapping her legs around her waist.

“Presenting your new senior class president! Brittany S. Pierce!”

It’s like sophomore year at Cheerios nationals, except this time the win is all theirs, it’s all Brittany.

She did it. Brittany -did- it.

She doesn’t really care that people are watching them and the Cheerios are encouraging people to storm the gym floor, Santana spins around in glee until Brittany squeals at the movement.

Brittany sighs happily into her neck and lets go of her. Santana beams at her as she jumps off the stage to join in the celebration dancing. That’s the girl who’s going to rule this school. In the name of the greater good of course.

Cheers for Brittany’s win overrule everything except the sound of a lone door closing.

~

“Did you come here just to gloat?” Kurt affronts and shucks the confetti off his shoulder as he sees her follow him outside. Another reminder that he’s lost. “Brittany won, I lost.”

She forces the urge to just leave him to wallow in this obvious pity party but she doesn’t want anything to rain on Brittany’s parade. And if she could get over Prom Queen, Kurt can get over this to support Brittany.

“Is that what you really think of me?” She says sarcastically but underneath she’s a little ticked. After all you don’t spend a good few months escorting someone to and from classes without bonding with them a little.

Quickly Kurt stops. “No.” He holds his head a little higher. “Congratulations, for Brittany, and you- I guess.”

“Yeah I’m super looking forward to getting into politics.” Santana replies sarcastically.

Kurt rolls his eyes but backs himself against the lockers. For once he’s not being shoved there by someone else. “What? You mean you aren’t? You’d make a ruthless politician.”

He looks small and sadder than she’s seen him in a long while. Downcast and staring at his impossibly shiny shoes. It hadn’t occurred to her, in the midst of Brittany and the night before and the morning she had waking up next to her, that Kurt went through a similar routine. Of waking up and picking the perfect outfit. Making sure his hair was right and all of his buttons were done.

Going further she might even imagine him walking into school and seeking out his boyfriend. Just as she sought Brittany’s lips in the early morning, still curled together, for reassurance and warmth.

“That’s a later part of the ten year plan.” She comments. He watches her suspiciously as she sinks to the floor next to him. A little more difficult in the tight black dress than his pants so he holds out a hand for her to steady herself with. “Thanks.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“Politics?” Santana repeats. “I don’t know. Maybe. These last few weeks have been fun.”

Kurt nods. “Fun because of the campaign or fun because of Brittany?”

At least the votes are in because it would suck for this to become a political scandal. Well, as much as it can be when a lot of people would have guessed anyway from the way Brittany kept referring to her as her ‘First Lady’ throughout the running.

“I resigned actually.” Santana confesses in passing. “Brittany saw it more as a demotion really but I’m not really down for being second best again.”

Kurt’s shock is so worth it. “Are you serious? Vice-President is still a title and you have duties-”

Duties he quickly rambles on about. Supporting Brittany in her ruling of the school. Helping her to push things through and to help the school turn into a free from harassment zone that they can be open and just like any other person in...

“Kurt. Can you shut up?” She snaps. “I’m trying to tell you that Brittany wants -you- as her vice-president and you’re making it really difficult to not make this all about me right now.” Santana stares him down. The words hit his face like falling leaves as his expression fades from shock to hope and then to disbelief.

“What?”

She’s walked him through the halls of this school numerous times but they’ve never really stopped and looked around. Never really looked at the walls that tormented him and the lockers that bruised him. But she’s always seen him. Days when he’s on top of the world and days when he’s dragging along the bottom.

Kurt, now, looks higher than she’s ever seen him.

“I’m waiting until 2023 before I consider running for the top job.” Santana delivers jokingly, still watching him take the offer in. “And besides, Brittany’s restarting the Bully Whips under Coach Beiste’s guidance and that’s my thing.”

Kurt chuckles to himself, his smile splitting his face. “Head of Security then.”

Santana likes that. “S’what I’m good at.”

“You are.” Kurt suddenly says. He turns to her. “Thank you.”

“It was Britt’s idea.”

“No, I mean. For last year. Everything you did with Karofsky and the Bully Whips.” He confesses quietly.

“Don’t mention it. Seriously.” Her shoulders itch at the mention of the Bully Whips. Like they miss the protection the neatly buttoned jackets gave her. She’s kind of looking forward to dusting off the beret. Maybe she’ll get Dave to join again.

“You know? You’re a lot less selfish than people think.” Kurt mutters. Santana would wonder where he’s going with this but she can still hear the celebrations inside, it’s not time for them to go back in yet.

“I told you it was Brittany’s idea.”

“For you to step down or for you to become what you’re subtly calling her personal bodyguard?”

Damn, Hummel.

“Isn’t this the part where you’re toy boy comes running down the hall or jumping on something?”

Seeing her deflection he laughs. A clear and bright laugh. “Nice try.”

~

 

“Hey.” She says as Brittany sways around the side and leans against the wall Santana is staring at. Not randomly, one of their posters is up and she’s just marveling at how they got from putting them up to Brittany actually winning.

Brittany smiles back at her. “Hi.”

There’s a trail of confetti and glitter from where they’ve walked out of the gym. “Congrats Britt.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You could’ve.” She counters. “You had the ideas in the first place.” It could have been someone else other than her.

Honest sincerity chimes in the air. “I wouldn’t have wanted to.”

They both shuffle together until Brittany is bumping her with the side of her hip. There’s confetti in her hair and her blazer is wrinkled from the amount of hugging she’s been doing. Or so she thinks, catching up to Kurt had taken longer than she thought.

“When do you want us to take these down?”

“Do we have to? It’s nice.” Brittany pokes at her own face on the poster. “It reminds people that they’re surrounded with acceptance.”

“And your face.”

“You love my face.”

Her chest swells and she’s glad there’s no one else in the hallway, they’re still all too busy turning Brittany’s inauguration into an impromptu party, because she doesn’t want to share this moment with anyone else.

“I just love you.”

The perfect way Brittany ducks her head and just, just gives her that look. That one. That hint of a smile that wants to just burst out wider but wants not to because the feeling is too good to share with the whole world. That look, makes words easier than they’ve been in weeks.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Definitely.” Brittany grabs her hand abruptly then stops. “Wait, that totally meant to go back to my house and get naked right?”

Speechless Santana just pulls them together and holds Brittany.

“Oh, I love you too.”

“Sweet talker.”

Brittany’s face is suddenly a lot close than before. “Well, I am wearing lip smackers.”

It’s silly really to feel like it’s okay to enjoy this. There’s a lot of work between now and when she thinks there will come a time when she can walk down the hall hand in hand with Brittany, kiss her when she wants to and feels brave enough to come out.

But staring at Brittany’s lips in the aftermath of her victory can take presidence over the complicated things to come.

“Oh really?” Santana teases.

Brittany forces herself against a locker, the broken one that no one ever uses and opens the door to it. Santana is being tugged into pressing against her before she can even react. “What’s with the locker door?”

“Paparazzi.”

Oh. Dr Pepper flavour.

They’re rounding second base in a hallway before Santana realizes, distracted by the taste of Brittany’s lips, that there is really no way this going slow is going to last.

Whatever. Brittany giggles and this time they do trip a little in their stumbling towards the private Cheerios locker room.

In some universe slow has to include ‘presidential victory groping’ at least.

le fin


End file.
